


are you strong enough to stand

by atlaswrote



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 03:44:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19899292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlaswrote/pseuds/atlaswrote
Summary: protecting both your heart andmine{saving the world looks more than a little strange to everyone else.}





	are you strong enough to stand

**Author's Note:**

> fair warning, this may never be finished. there is blanket permission to translate/podfic/what have you of this 'verse, and i thank you in advance for liking my fic this much to do so. feel free to prompt me or other chapters considering i have absolutely no idea what im doing! and thats about it.

_July 30th, 1991_

Narcissa does not know what wakes her at first, only hearing her husband’s quiet breathing and her own blood rushing in her ears. Then, underneath the noises of her room, she hears the wards, buzzing away in her blood. 

Something is wrong. Nothing _should_ be wrong, but the wards have been disturbed and she is going to find out _why_. 

She rises, moving Lucius as to not wake him and securing her wand. She feels her way through the wards, discarding the ones that are across the entirety of the grounds, the entirety of the manor, until she finds herself in front of her son’s room. For a minute she believes that she must be mistaken, that the wards are _wrong_ , because nothing would ever happen to her son, she wouldn’t allow it. 

Narcissa expected a fight, a hex on the tip of her tongue. The shaking figure of her son with tears streaming down his face stopped her dead in her tracks. He was kneeling on the floor, looking into the mirror with the most haunted eyes she had ever seen. She stepped closer, her feet silent on the floor and he whipped around, pushing backwards and away like it was the only thing keeping him safe. That hurt her inside, in the same place that would burn down the world if it kept her family safe, but what hurt worse was the lack of recognition in his eyes, only overwhelming terror. 

“Draco? Are you okay?” _What happened? How can I fix it? Gods, let me be able to fix it._

His throat worked like he was going to respond, only to then change his mind and leaned back against the wall. His eyes followed her as she stepped closer into the room. She would have believed him to be calm, if it weren’t for the twitching in his right hand that seemed to get progressively worse the closer she came. 

“Draco? Do you know who I am?” Narcissa wasn’t a worrier by nature, preferring to remain calm even in the face of danger, but this lack of recognition sparked terror in her like nothing else. She sank to her knees near him, slow as if not to spook him. She didn’t miss the way his whole body tensed, fear still clouding his eyes.

“ - and he took me to the river, where he slowly let me drown.” Narcissa caught the tail end of his mumbling, but the words made no sense, unless he was talking about whatever gave him such a fright to begin with. 

Dreams of dying would be enough to make anyone afraid, nevermind an eleven year old. She wasn’t naive enough to think that this would be the end of it, but it was nice to have an explanation for at least some of his odd behavior. 

A sudden gasp pulled her out of her reverie and she looked over to see grey eyes that sparked like he could see her. She almost had no time to react as he shot himself into her arms, sobbing all over again. He buried his face into her neck and shook in her arms and this was the child she remembered, not the boy with haunted eyes that didn’t recognize her. 

He cried himself right on back to sleep, hands twined in her dressing gown and utterly silent, like making noise would be to impose on her whilst he slept. She knelt there until the sun was high in the sky, providing a silent vigil over her son, holding him close as if she could somehow fix everything by simply being there. 

That was where Lucius found her, holding their sleeping son in her arms and staring. He didn’t ask what had happened, like she expected, instead wrapping himself around her and letting her relax into his chest. 

And for a quiet moment, everything was okay. 

Draco woke quietly, looking around his room as if he couldn’t quite believe he was there before turning his eyes to his father. And this, more than the nightmares or the lack of recognition or the wards that were still vaguely disgruntled told Narcissa that there was something possibly irreparably _wrong_ with her son. 

He looked at Lucius and for a split second he looked _terrified_.

No matter what had happened, Draco looked at his father like he had hung the stars and the moon. Never had Draco feared his father even if he had reason to. 

Never had Draco feared his father even when he needed to. 

Even as they prepared for a visit to Diagon Alley tomorrow, Narcissa was planning. She was nothing if not resourceful and she had the power to back it up. 

No one, and she does mean _no one_ , messes with her family and gets away with it. Not even the Dark Lord himself could stop her from keeping her family safe. 


End file.
